Harry Potter Spoof
by kgranger
Summary: A spoof on Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. Please read and review.
1. Default Chapter

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters.  
  
Chapter One  
  
It was a normal day - well as normal as you can get in these types of stories.  
  
The sun blazed down through a window in a house on Privet drive, burning the face of a boy with tousled black hair, who woke with a start. Judging by the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, I'd say he was Harry Potter.  
  
Harry sat up and looked around, puzzled. Since when did his cupboard under the stairs have a window? It hadn't last time he'd checked. And what was that horrible groaning sound he could hear? Could a mouse be making it? No, of course not. He thought. Mice squeak. Harry shook his head to clear his thoughts, and looked around again. A pitiful moan interrupted Harry's now clear thoughts, and he realised at once what had happened.  
  
His elephantine cousin, Dudley Dursley, had tried to get up the stairs again, and they had collapsed under his massive bulk.  
  
He now lay on the floor next to Harry's bed, tiny bits of white plaster sprinkled over his pink bunny rabbit pyjamas.  
  
'Help... me...' Dudley moaned, and Harry considered for half a second. But, he knew that he had something else to do, no question about that, so he couldn't help Dudley get up. He'd probably dislocate his shoulder if he tried, anyway.  
  
'Sorry, Dud, but I have to go and fetch the mail right about now. There's supposed to be a mysterious and heavy letter arriving for me today.' He skipped off down the hall, whistling loudly.  
  
'THAT RUDDY OWL!' thundered Uncle Vernon, hurtling down the upstairs hall to Dudley's second bedroom.  
  
'Not yet, darling' called his wife, Harry's Aunt Petunia, from their bedroom. Harry ignored them and continued down the hall to the front door, banging things on his way with the Smeltings stick he'd nicked from Dudley. When he reached the front door, he bent down and picked up the luminous green mailbox lying on the doormat. Extracting its contents, Harry dropped it and the Smeltings stick on the floor and set off for the kitchen, staring at the letters in his hand. There were three; a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, Marge, who was holidaying on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill, and - a letter for Harry! It was mysteriously heavy and addressed to him very clearly:  
  
Mr H. Potter  
  
The Cupboard Under the Stairs  
  
4 Privet Drive  
  
Little Whinging  
  
Surrey  
  
Harry stared at it, then marched into the kitchen where his aunt and uncle had just sat down. He threw the postcard and the bill down in front of Uncle Vernon, and started to open his mysterious and heavy envelope with slow, exaggerated movements.  
  
'Marge's ill.' Uncle Vernon observed. 'Ate a funny whelk. Will you stop that, boy!' He waved the postcard at Harry, who had just hit him in the eye as he tore the seal from his envelope.  
  
'Dad! Dad!' Dudley called from Harry's cupboard, his voice sounding slightly muffled through the wall. 'Harry's got something, LOOK!' Vernon jumped and stared at the letter in Harry's hand, as if seeing it for the first time. Harry was in the process of unfolding the thick piece of parchment that he'd pulled from the envelope.  
  
'Give me that, boy!' Uncle Vernon snapped, snatching the letter from Harry's hands.  
  
'Hey! That's my letter!' Harry cried, diving at Vernon for his mysterious letter. Uncle Vernon dodged out of his way.  
  
'Don't be stupid, boy! Who would be writing to... to... you...' Uncle Vernon's voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the letter. Quite suddenly, he let out a loud gasp and staggered to his chair, his face as white as chalk. A loud noise filled the room as he sat down, like the air being let out of a balloon, and Harry heard Dudley giggling madly from the cupboard under the stairs.  
  
'Petunia! Look!' Uncle Vernon barked, and Aunt Petunia came bustling over with a cup of coffee to read the letter. She let out a shriek and spilt her coffee on the letter and Uncle Vernon's legs.  
  
After he had finished jumping around, Uncle Vernon sat down and started whispering to Petunia.  
  
'You don't think... It can't be!'  
  
'Look at the address...'  
  
'There must be spies about somewhere...'  
  
'We can't allow this to happen...'  
  
'We can't have them prying into our home...'  
  
Harry stood up. 'Give me my letter!' He yelled.  
  
'NO! No, no, no!' Uncle Vernon spluttered. 'No point, you see, it's covered in coffee. Completely illegible!' He grinned smugly, waving the letter in front of Harry, who noticed that the only thing blotted out was the name of the sender. 'I'll have to burn it.' And he tossed into the fireplace. 'Well, that's that.'  
  
'Come on then, Vernon.' Aunt Petunia said, and took his arm. They both disappeared up the hall, laughing unpleasantly all the way to their room. When Harry was sure that they were gone, he crossed over to the unlit fireplace, removed his letter, and started to read.  
  
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY.  
  
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
  
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,  
  
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards.)  
  
Dear Mr Potter,  
  
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
  
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.  
  
Yours sincerely,  
  
Harry couldn't read any more because of the coffee, but he had a basic idea of what the letter was about.  
  
'But I don't have an owl!' He cried. 'This wasn't in the script, was it?'  
  
He turned around, and a large brown barn owl swooped in through the closed window, sending shattered bits of glass everywhere and landing on Harry's head.  
  
Harry grabbed a piece of Aunt Petunia's flowery writing paper and a pen from the bench, and hastily scribbled on it.  
  
'Is this my owl? What do I do with it? Is...'  
  
The barn owl snatched the writing paper from Harry's hand and flapped out the other kitchen window, which was open. Harry threw the pen after it and sat down on the floor with a crunch.  
  
A few minutes later, there came a timid knock on the door. Harry raced to open it. Who knew, it could be the milkman! Wildly excited, he raced down the hall, and was bitterly disappointed when he opened the front door and came face to stomach with the largest man he'd ever seen.  
  
'Hullo.' Said the man.  
  
'You're not the milkman!' Harry wailed.  
  
'Nope, I'm Rubeus Hagrid, here to take you to Hogwarts. Come on, then.' Hagrid started down the path, but turned back when he realised that Harry wasn't following. 'Come on!' he repeated. 'Unless you'd rather stay, of course.'  
  
Harry looked behind him at the ruined staircase and the bits of glass scattered across the floor. From upstairs, he could hear Uncle Vernon shouting,  
  
'THAT RUDDY...'  
  
Harry turned and walked out the door, slamming it behind him. 


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
Harry stood outside the front door of number four Privet drive with Hagrid for an hour. He tried to talk to Hagrid, who was sitting on the doorstep with his head in his hands, quite a few times, but all Hagrid would say was 'Shhh! I'm thinking!'  
  
Suddenly, Hagrid leapt up with a yell, which startled Harry. He looked up from the game of Monopoly he was playing with some neighbourhood children, and watched as Hagrid opened the front door of number four, pointed a frilly pink umbrella inside, and closed it again, muffling the loud squealing sound that had erupted.  
  
'Aah, that's better. I knew I'd forgotten something!' Hagrid said, setting off down the driveway. Harry followed reluctantly - he had been close to winning.  
  
Hagrid stopped at the end of the driveway, and whistled loudly. Harry looked around expectantly for the rowboat that was in the script, but none came. Instead, the square of pavement that Harry and Hagrid were standing on disappeared, and Harry gave a high-pitched scream as he and Hagrid tumbled into the darkness.  
  
They fell for quite a while, and Harry was just wishing that he'd brought his Monopoly game along when they landed with a loud thump in a small, rickety cart.  
  
'Is this the Gringotts cart, Hagrid? You didn't read the script, did you?' Harry eyed Hagrid suspiciously. 'Are you really Hagrid? Are you sure you aren't Lord Voldemort in disguise? Is this...'  
  
'Shut up!' Hagrid grunted, twiddling with some knobs in the front of the cart. He pressed a large red button, and the cart sped off down a railway track, shaking ominously at corners and screeching to a stop in front of a mouldy wooden door. The plastic sign next to it informed Harry that they had reached Vault 713. Hagrid tried to open the door using the rusted doorknob, but it wouldn't open.  
  
'Right, stand back!' he roared, and charged at the door. It gave way with a loud crunch, and Harry walked into the vault to find Hagrid groaning on the floor, a dirty package wrapped in Christmas paper lying next to him.  
  
'Ooh, I know what that is!' Harry cried! 'It was in the script, on page 215! It's the Philosopher's Stone!' Harry grabbed at it, but Hagrid swatted his hand out of the way.  
  
'Shh! Yer not supposed to know that yet! You'll ruin the whole book!' He got up and walked out of the vault, bumping his head on the top of the doorway on his way.  
  
Harry followed, and got into the Gringotts cart, which rattled off before Hagrid could get in. He ran alongside, shouting swear words and puffing a lot.  
  
'Stop! Stooooooooop!' he cried, and gave an extraordinary leap, landing head first in the cart, which zoomed even faster around a corner, with Hagrid's legs waving around. The cart went faster and faster, and got more and more reckless, until it reached the end of its track, where it stopped abruptly, and Harry and Hagrid were thrown out. They flew through the air and Harry landed painfully in a cauldron.   
  
'Out! OUT! Get out of my new cauldron!' A large and ugly witch was approaching Harry, carrying a broom. Harry tried to get out of the cauldron, but found that he was stuck fast.  
  
'This... wasn't... in the... script!' he grunted, trying get out of the cauldron. Finally, the cauldron collapsed, and Harry fell to the ground. He leapt up, and ran straight into Hagrid, who was carrying a snowy white owl and several bags.  
  
'Here you go!' he cried, looking disgruntled. 'The bugger's already pecked me three times!' he pushed the owl into Harry's hands, and stumped away. 'C'mon! Ollivander's is next! You'll need a wand!' Harry ran after him, and into an old, shabby shop.  
  
A tinkling bell rang as they stepped inside. It was tiny, and empty apart from a tiny, spindly chair, which Hagrid immediately broke as he tried to sit down. Harry looked around at the boxes stacked against the walls.  
  
'Hagrid, which one's my wand?' Harry asked, walking up to one of the boxes and peering at it closely. Hagrid didn't answer, however, as he was hurriedly trying to glue the spindly chair back together. Suddenly, Harry saw it! The box was underneath stacks of others, but he knew. Quickly, he moved closer, and sure enough, the box read 'Holly and Phoenix Feather, 11 inches, nice and supple. Reserved for Harry Potter' Harry grabbed the box, pulled it out, and was promptly buried in boxes as the rest of the stack fell down on his head.  
  
'Good afternoon,' said a soft voice. Hagrid jumped and glued the back of the spindly chair to his hand. Harry must have jumped too, because a few of the boxes in the pile clattered to the floor. The man belonging to the voice crossed over to Harry and pulled him out of the pile.  
  
'Er... Hello?' Harry said awkwardly, trying to hide the pile of boxes behind his back. 'L-lovely day, isn't it?'  
  
'Ah yes,' said the man. 'Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter. I'm Mr. Ollivander.' He leered at Harry. 'Found your wand already, then? Very quick on the uptake, you are. Well, then, I suppose you'd better give it a wave, as it's in the script and all...' Harry opened the box he'd been holding and pulled out a beautiful wand, which he waved around. Hagrid suddenly started dancing a jig.  
  
'Oh, bravo! Very good, Mr Potter, very good indeed!' Hagrid tried to say something, but danced out the door instead, the back of the spindly chair still stuck to his hand. 'But curious... Very curious...' Mr. Ollivander said, walking behind a desk.   
  
'What's curious?' asked Harry. 'The fact that the phoenix that gave the feather to this wand only gave one other, and that feather went to dear old Voldie's wand?'  
  
Mr. Ollivander looked surprised. 'No, no, not at all, that was in the script, after all. It's just... Well, I could have sworn that the spindly chair over there had a back... Ah well, that'll be seven Galleons, then please.' Harry paid and exited the shop.  
  
The afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Harry and Hagrid (who had stopped dancing and was looking very out of breath) made their way down Diagon Alley, and through a hole in a wall that Hagrid made when he charged through. Harry looked around and found that he was at a train station.  
  
'Well, you'll be needing this,' Hagrid said to Harry, handing him a piece of paper. Harry looked at it and saw that it was a photo of Hagrid in a dress. 'Oh...' Hagrid stuttered, snatching it back. 'Er, that's not it... Um... Oh, here it is!' He thrust another, smaller piece of paper at Harry. 'Well, I'm supposed to magically disappear right about now... Er, if you'd just close your eyes and count to twenty four...'  
  
Harry did as he was told, and when he opened his eyes again, Hagrid was nowhere to be seen. He had magically disappeared! Harry was amazed.  
  
Harry glanced at the new piece of paper he held in his hand, and discovered that it was a ticket to Hogwarts, which told him to catch the Hogwarts Express from platform nine and three quarters. Harry knew, from reading the script, that he should look around for a redheaded family talking about Muggles, who would tell him about how he should walk through the barrier between platforms nine and ten. He looked around, but couldn't find them. Where could they be? He turned around to face the barrier just in time to see a lady and young girl, both with flaming red hair, disappear through the barrier.  
  
'Oh, great!' Harry muttered to himself. 'Didn't read the script, I expect. Fine, I'll just have to do it myself!' And he strode purposefully towards the barrier. 


End file.
